The Trouble with Oneshots
by Floss
Summary: This is a collection of fics to be read after The Trouble with Quidditch Players. Basically this is to fill in the blanks between now and the Sequel. Characters include Ayla Jenson, Marcus Flint, Oliver Wood, and everyone's favourite person: Kate. Oh and
1. The Trouble with the Truth part one

**Disclaimer: Things I own: Kate, Ayla and anyone else I made up. This is done for fun, I'm not JKR (though I wouldn't complain if I was), so don't shout at me if I get things wrong.**

**Hello to all my wonderful readers! I tried to stay away longer. I really did. But I missed this so much it's stupid. So here's the start of the oneshots, hope you enjoy:**

The Trouble with the Truth.

Oliver entered the Leaky Cauldron. He hoped the twins would be quick, he had nipped out quick while Kate was distracted by baby clothes, he didn't have time to mess about. Spotting identical red heads in the corner he made his way quickly to them.

"Can't stop long guys, Kate doesn't know I'm gone."

"Oh that's ok mate."

"Yeah we just fancied a quick drink."

"To catch up."

After all these years Oliver still found it hard to tell the twins apart, he had no idea who was who.

"Quick chat."

"Quick drink."

"Then back to work for us."

"And back to Kate for you."

"That's ok then. Shall I get them I?" Oliver asked.

"No need."

"We already did."

"In the interest of saving time."

"Great!" Oliver said, sitting down. He lifted the glass to his mouth. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"Just a chat."

"About you and stuff."

"I'm great. You?"

"We're great. What about Kate?"

"Kate?"

"Your wife?"

"The woman you, ahem, love?"

"Love? I don't love Kate. I don't…"

"Think it's worked Fred?"

"Oh I'd say so."

"Hang on. I'm married. I don't know the woman. I'm married. Why did I get married?"

"Well mate, it's a bit of a long story."

"First of all, how do you feel about Ayla?"

"Ayla? She's great, amazing. But where does she come into this?"

"Like I said long story. Basically mate, there's no nice way to say this, but you've been the victim of a very sick, uh joke."

"Guys I think I'm going to need a bit more than that. What the hell's going on?"

"Well Kate's been giving you a love potion."

"For the past eight months."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah and she gave you a hate potion too."

"A what?"

"For Ayla."

"How is that a joke?" Oliver said, his anger was rising in him, fuelled by his overwhelming confusion at the whole situation.

"Well…"

"I don't believe this. I have to go. I need to talk to Kate."

Oliver got up, not heeding the twins pleas to stay and listen a bit longer. He had to get out of there. He didn't understand what had happened. How could he have gone all that time, under a potion? Hadn't his family noticed? His friends? He was married. He barely knew the woman, yet he had married her. He remembered being angry at Ayla, that must have been the potion too. But he could hardly remember the past eight months. Why?

His head felt heavy, and his stomach churned. Lifting his left hand he looked at the third finger. A ring. This wasn't a joke. It was very real. But why? Why him? It didn't make sense. Why had she done this?

Oliver stood outside Madam Malkin's shop. His mind was racing. One question recurred in his head, why? The anger continued to build, overtaking the feelings of hurt and confusion. He couldn't remember the last eight months of his life. It was all a blur. There was a foggy patch inside his mind and only one figure protruded through the fog: the figure he could see through the window. His "wife". She had done this. She had drugged him, stolen almost a year of his life away. Did she feel guilty? It didn't seem so. It looked like she was having a whale of a time.

He wanted to yell. At her. He wanted her to feel his anger and confusion. Wanted her to know how she really made him feel. But would she talk to him then? Explain herself? He doubted it somehow. He'd have to be calm for her now. Later he'd let it all go, later he'd shout until he was hoarse. Right now he needed answers.

He opened the door and entered the small shop. She was talking to the witch who ran the shop. Gushing about a robe she held in her hand. She probably planned to buy it with his money. His anger bubbled inside him and he had to work to push it back down. Not now.

"Oh Olly look at this. Isn't it darling?"

"We have to go now. Sorry Madam Malkin, we won't be buying anything today."

He grabbed her by the elbow and steered her out of the shop. He tried to be gentle, to pretend that nothing was different. It was a struggle.

"I'm going to apparate home. Follow me please." he said quietly.

"Ok."

He disappeared with a pop, arriving moments later in his grand sitting room. There were traces of her here. He could feel it. They obviously lived together, they were married after all, and she had left her mark on the place already. She arrived with a pop and moved to envelope him in an embrace. He dodged out of her way and began to pace.

"Why?" he asked.

"Why what? Olly what's wrong? You don't seem right."

"Right? I'm the most right I've been in what? Eight months I think Fred said. Or is it longer?"

"I don't know what you mean. Look why don't I make us a drink and then we can sit down and chat?"

"I'm not eating or drinking anything you've touched."

"Why not?"

"Why not? Because you've been drugging me!"

"Who told you that? They're lying!"

"You're the one who's lying. I know you are. I can't remember anything I've done this year. We're married and I don't remember the wedding. I don't even remember asking you to marry me!"

"You're just having a bad day Olly. Please let me get you a drink, something to calm you down."

"Make me forget you mean! Make me think I love you. I don't. I know I don't. But I married you, why would I do that?"

"You do love me!"

"I don't! You drugged me. With a love potion. You turned me into your walking love zombie!"

"I…I…"

"Deny it. Go on! You can't, can you? Why did you do it? Tell me!"

"I can't." Kate wailed miserably.

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? How can you not know? You planned it. You had to. No one walks around with a love potion in their pocket, just in case. And it doesn't last this long. It wears off! So you kept topping me up. And you say you don't know why!"

"It got out of hand. I shouldn't have, I'm sorry."

"Get out!"

"What?"

"Get out! Now. Out of my house, my life, my _head_. Get out!"

"You can't throw me out! Please Olly."

"Why not? It's what you deserve."

"I'm pregnant."

He had been walking to the door, intending to throw her out. He stopped short.

"You're what?"

"With your baby. We're having a baby Olly."

"I don't believe you."

"We went to Saint Mungo's yesterday. We're-"

"I don't remember!"

"We're having a boy. You'll be a father, you'll have a son. You can't throw us out. Please. Think of your son!"

"This doesn't make sense."

"Let's just talk. Let's just sit down quietly and talk. I'll help you remember yesterday."

Oliver sunk to the floor, defeated. Merlin he hoped this was all just a bad dream.

* * *

Just in case anyone is wondering this takes place some time before the last chapter one TTWQP. So Oliver doesn't know about the Ayla situation. Yet. 


	2. The Trouble with the Truth part two

**Bit of swearing in this, just to let you know.**

The Trouble with the Truth - part two.

"You! You're unbelievable you know that? I can't believe I trusted you. I can't believe I'm surprised that you lied. Again! You just can't help yourself can you?"

"Don't shout Oliver. I'm not some child you can scold."

"You don't even care do you?"

"I did what I had to."

"You invented a baby!"

"I told you what you wanted to hear."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You wouldn't have left me. You didn't have the guts, I gave you an excuse to say."

"You lied about being pregnant."

Kate sighed. Oliver's shouting was giving her another headache. It seemed all he did lately was yell at her. It was beginning to get tiring. Why couldn't he see that everything she did was for him? For his benefit.

"I assumed I'd get pregnant. I just gave you the news early. So I was a bit previous, get over it."

"How could you get pregnant? We don't even sleep in the same room!"

"I assumed we'd end up in the same bed at some point."

"You assume too much."

"Oh its too much to assume that a husband sleep in the same bed as his wife is it? Normal couples have sex Oliver! Just because you-"

"Don't you dare try and blame this on me." he hissed, his voice dangerously low. "This is all your doing, all your invention. Merlin you even lied to your parents. I watched you do it. You didn't even blink."

"I didn't lie, I-"

"Shut up!" he roared.

Kate, for once, flinched. He was just a ball of red hot anger right now, it never paid to argue with him when he was like this. She shut her mouth and looked at him expectantly. If he wanted to rage at her she'd let him.

"Look at you. You just don't care. Even if you did assume at first, which I doubt, this is another of your lies. In the last few months you could have said something. You could have admitted that there was no baby. But no, not you. Kate Green, tell the truth? Hah!" he paused, panting for breath.

She bit her tongue to keep from correcting him. She was Kate Wood now. She had to keep reminding him of that.

"You just lie, and lie, and LIE. All the fucking time."

He was really working himself up now. He'd picked up their wedding photograph, that she proudly displayed, as his voice rose and threw it across the room. He favoured that particular photo when it came time for him to throw something. She had lost count of how many times she had replaced the frame.

"Other scheming bitches would go fuck some random idiot. Get pregnant that way. Not you. You just keep that mouth of yours running. You didn't even have the decency to cheat on me!"

"I would never-"

"I know. Because if you did and I found out, I'd get my divorce. You just concoct more flights of fancy. I can't believe I trusted you. I should have known something wasn't right when you said you were using a glamour to hide your bump. How could I have been so stupid?"

"Look-"

"No! I'm talking, you do enough every other day. You know what I've realised? Go on, guess."

"I thought it was your turn to talk."

"Humour me."

"I don't know, what?"

"It's not me that has the problem. It's you."

"What do you mean?"

"I can have children. I already have a child."

"So?"

"I'm under no illusions that while I was under your spell I was no more than your little sex slave Kate. In all that time you didn't get pregnant."

"Is that all?"

She was satisfied to see Oliver's face drop at her words. Her precious hubby really had no idea. Even now he thought he knew her.

"I have to say I hardly care darling. I never wanted your children. Only you. Why would I want some clingy little monster when I already have all that I've ever wanted?"

"You're sick."

"Oh change the record Oliver! I know what I've done. I'm not proud"

"Liar!" he spat.

"I'm not proud. You don't see me shouting it from the rooftops do you? No. As I've said all along, I did what I _had_ to do."

"I'm a person! I have the right to make my own choices Kate, why can't you understand that?"

"Oh get over yourself. You know as well as I do that most men would kill to be in your place."

"I'd kill to have someone else in my place."

"Well look who's a clever little bunny. Only you aren't that clever Oliver."

"Meaning what exactly? That I can't see through your lies?"

"No one can. No I mean about what you said earlier."

"What exactly? I've said a lot this afternoon."

"Don't I know it. I mean about you being a father. You'll never be a father." she said it with a slight laugh, intending to annoy him further.

"I already _am_ a father you stupid bitch."

"Biologically. I won't deny that. But you won't get to be with the brat. You won't see it grow up."

"Him. I have a son." Oliver said quietly.

"Who you'll never see."

"I can see him if I want. I'm his father, I have every right to-"

"Yes but how many people know that? And who'll believe you if you tell them? Because that's what it comes down to oh husband mine. To the wizarding world the father of your son is Marcus Flint. Not you. And if you say anything, anything at all, people will question you. They'll want to know the whole truth. Are you going to tell them everything? What kind of a man would that make you? Drugged by a little old me. And of course, you know I'll deny everything. Who do you think they'll believe? When it really comes down to it, which is more convincing? Your truth, or my lie? I've fooled everyone so far, I'm not even breaking a sweat Olly boy. You want to see what I'm really capable of? I could ruin you. I will ruin you if you say one word against me. You'll see. This is just the beginning, I could go on for years."

"Just get out of my house."

"Our house. We're married Olly, equal partners. What's yours is mine. Fifty fifty.

"Fine keep the fucking house. I'll leave."

"You leave me and I'll tell the world I lost the baby."

"Go right ahead."

"I'll say you beat me, and our baby died because of you."

"You wouldn't."

"You haven't been listening have you? There's nothing I won't do to keep you."

"You can't fake something like that."

"You don't sound so certain. Come on, you know what I'm capable of. You really think I won't?"

She watched as he slumped down in the armchair, silent at last. And it had only taken two hours of shouting and threats.

"Face it Ol' we're meant to be together. It's fate. You should be flattered that I care so much."

"Should I?" his tone was sulky now, she loved it.

"The truth of it is, you're stuck with me. I'm not letting you go Oliver Wood. I vowed to never let you go. 'Til death us do part. And I'm not going anywhere soon."

He was once again defeated, miserable. All his energy had gone. He was stuck, he was hers. Forever, apparently.

* * *

Agh so long between updates. A thousand apologies those stupid people in university seem to think I'm there to do work! Hah! Anyway thanks to all my wonderful reviewers who've stuck with me. We've still got a long way to go but hopefully it's going to be good.

**Oh and thanks to everyone for my birthday messages! You all rock and I love ya loads!**


	3. The Trouble With Making Your Mind Up

**Warning: tread carefully there's some bad language ahead.**

The Trouble With Making Your Mind Up.

Oliver sat under the large tree, he had no idea what it was but he didn't really care anyway. The ground was damp, he could feel the wetness slowly seeping into his trousers. He didn't care about that either. He sat with his legs splayed out in front of him, his arms at his sides were pulling up clumps of dewy grass.

He had little idea of where he was. He had flown blindly last night. All he knew was that he needed to get out of the house. Away from her. So now he sat. the sun began to rise in front of him, there was a sound of water nearby. He could be anywhere, at any time. Something about the area was familiar to him. To his knowledge he had never been there before. The whole place reminded him of somewhere from his childhood.

When he was a kid he had seen more of his grandparents than his parents. Not to say that his mum and dad were absent parents, they just worked a lot. Oliver had loved spending time with his Nan and Grandpop. They were the people who raised him, who shaped the person he was today.

Sitting there he thought of the good old days. When his parents were still in love. When they held hands on weekend walks up the mountain. When they had done the coupley things that he found so disgusting as a child, like kissing in public. Oliver couldn't remember when they had stopped. When they had fallen out of love. They were still together, but things were different now. His family was divided by an invisible line. His parents occupied separate parts of his childhood home now.

That was also his life now. He had done the coupley thing apparently. He didn't remember. And now he and his wife occupied different areas of his house. A few years ago he had been convinced that his marriage, should he ever have one, would not go the same way as his parents. How wrong he was. His was going down hill far faster.

The crunching tear of the grass and some light bird song was all that permeated his brain. He had to strain to hear the water now. He shook his head, needing to clear it and concentrate on something else. Something happier.

He could remember his Nan telling him off for ripping up her lawn in this way. He remembered the way she would scold him and then make a cup of tea. Because, she said, there was nothing a good cup of tea couldn't solve.

He often remembered his grandparents so fondly. Like the way his Grandpop would always go out for a walk, and end up in the pub. And when he came back, with his flat cap on and swinging his walking stick, he would bring Oliver sweets.

When his Grandpop had died, Oliver could remember his Nan clutching that walking stick so dearly. It was only in the last two years of his life that Oliver's Grandpop had needed his stick.

He brushed the tears from his eyes, as he remembered the day his Grandpop had died. He hated thinking of that day. He hadn't had the chance to say goodbye. If you asked Oliver, before this past year, what had been the worst time of his life he would say then. The time he lost his dearest friend and teacher. To Oliver life had ended the day his Grandpop died. Did that mean that the time between then and now was limbo? And that he was now actually in hell? It seemed appropriate.

So this was hell. Rolling green fields, and large trees that let the dappled sunlight fall on his head in green shafts. This was how it had been when he was younger. When his Grandpop had taken him for walks by the river, and they would sit, as Oliver did now, under some great tree and listen to the birds sing. This was hell, remembering what had happened before and knowing what was waiting for him when he eventually went home.

Oliver knew of course that he would have to go home at some point. He couldn't sit there forever, though he was sorely tempted to try. And when he did he'd need to sort things out. He'd need to untangle the mess that his life has become. Because in truth he could not go on living the way he was.

He had not felt so miserable in years. It was a struggle for him to hold himself together. All he ever wanted to do was break down and beg someone to help him. Because he didn't know what to do, for better or worst. He was utterly lost.

He could feel his wand in his pocket. It was a constant friend these days, because there was a specific use he had in mind for it. Now seemed the time. He had not been sure he could do it. But after feeling so completely helpless a determined air finally came over him. His life seemed broken beyond repair, why not try it? He pulled the baton of wood from his pocket and held it at arms length towards his chest.

"Avada Kedavra."

Nothing happened. He hadn't really expected it to. Either the act was impossible or he didn't really mean it. Everything was pointless.

He stood up. There was an ache in his legs from sitting for so long. He wiped his greenish hands on his trousers and reached for his broom. Time to go home.

The wind seems to split in two as he rose through the air. He sighed, no matter how bad things got flying was always a relief for him. He angled his broom and shot straight up towards the sun. Oliver climbed higher and higher. His eyes were shut against the glare, he didn't need them now. Flying, for him, was more instinct than anything. He went higher than he had been in a while, such a long while. He could almost taste the air getting thinner. When he finally went as far as he thought he could he stopped. Hovering in place he opened his eyes and looked down at the mass of green below him. And then dove. Straight down no sign of a break, he was almost freefalling.

The wind, now icy cold, whipped his face and stole his breath away. And at last he felt some semblance of peace.

The automatic safety break kicked in twenty feet above ground. He pulled up and levelled out as his broom began to slow. Oliver took a deep breath and headed north. Now it really was time to go home.

When Oliver finally got home it was well past midday. Kate was out, as usual. She spent most of her time with her friends, no doubt plotting something. Still it was a relief to home to know he'd have the house to himself for a while. All of the way home he had thought.

His parents were not his role models when it came to a successful marriage. They were practically strangers now. They had their separate lives. They even slept in separate rooms now. He had wanted to be like his grandparents. Still in love after decades. Still holding hands. But without even knowing it he had entered into a marriage like his parents.

He sat at the kitchen table, waiting and thinking. Kate was always home before it got dark. Not long now.

In truth he knew had had no plan for his life. He had thought he'd just go with the flow. That option had been taken away from him. He never really thought he'd end up married. He had just hoped that should he ever, it would be to the right girl. He had gone with the flow, though unknowingly. Oliver felt that right now, in this whole mess it was time for him to take the control back.

Kate walked through the kitchen doors as the shadows began to lengthen. She saw Oliver at the table but paid him no mind. They weren't talking today or at least they hadn't been yesterday. This was the first she had seen of him today. She hung her coat by her door and moved to leave the room.

"Can we talk?" Oliver rasped out.

"As long as you don't shout." she replied. "I'm sick of arguing with you Oliver. This is not how I imagined my life would be."

"Well then, we agree on something. I'm sick of shouting too. I'm sick of being angry. Because it doesn't get me anywhere. I've been thinking."

"About what?" she asked, sitting down opposite him.

"About this marriage."

"I've told you Oliver. I'm not agreeing to a divorce." she interrupted.

"I know. You've made that clear. And I understand. Or I think I do. You've seen my parents, they don't talk. They barely acknowledge one another. I never wanted my marriage to turn out that way."

"Too late for that. I suppose you're going to blame me?"

"Are you trying to say I shouldn't? this whole situation is down to you. You can't deny that."

"It would have worked if you would have kept taking the potion."

"Is that really what you wanted? Some fucking zombie on your arm to make you look good? I may have said I loved you, but it was never real. It never meant anything. Is that what you wanted? Empty words and false actions?"

"To begin with. But I did wonder, if you ever meant it. If you could mean it."

"I don't want to turn out like my parents. That's what I've been thinking about. I know you won't give me a divorce because of the things people will say. Because I've said those things. And I don't want people to say them about us."

"So what do you propose?" she asked, looking him in the eye for the first time in weeks.

"I think we should try. It isn't perfect. But few things are. And it probably won't be what either of us really wants. But we should try." he said meeting her gaze.

"You mean it?"

"I'm not saying everything's going to just fall into place. We'll probably end up arguing more. And it'll take time."

"But we'll try. that's all I've ever wanted Ol'. Just to try."

"I've got a few conditions. And there's no negotiation. Either you agree to them or we continue living separate lives in one house."

"What are they?"

"You aren't going to like them. No more potions-"

"I haven't! Not since-"

"Ever. And I want your wand."

"What?"

"Marriage is built on trust. I can't trust you with it."

"So you want us to live like muggles?"

"Not us. You. I can't trust you. Not yet. But if I learn to then you can have your wand back."

"How will you stop me brewing potions?"

Oliver pulled out his wand and directed it at the potion cabinet.

"Incendio."

The wood burst into bright orange and gold flames immediately. The heat was harsh and the smell overwhelming.

"No more ingredients in the house. We'll get a house elf. And he'll prepare all the food and drink."

"I didn't agree."

Oliver shrugged. It didn't matter. Whether she agreed or not he had already decided to destroy the cabinet. He couldn't sleep easy, knowing she had access to it.

"So this is your solution is it? Treat me like a muggles to make out marriage work. Am allowed to leave the house? Or am I to be treated like a prisoner also?"

"You can come and go as you like. The only thing I'm restricting is what I don't feel I can trust you with."

Silence descended on the table. Kate stared sightlessly at the cornflower blue wall paper opposite her. Oliver pointed his wand at what remained of the cabinet, putting out the flames and vanishing the remnants of wood.

"I don't suppose I'm allowed to lay down some conditions?" she asked.

"Not at the moment. Maybe if things start to work out. But it'll depend on what they are."

"This is unfair."

"It was unfair, what you did to me."

"I never meant to hurt you."

"Your intentions were never for my benefit. We both know that. Don't try and kid yourself. No more lying Kate."

"You can't add things as and when you think of them Oliver. That's not f-"

"No more lying. Or I walk away. Right now."

"Fine."

Oliver looked at his hands splayed on the table in front of him. He tried not to smile. He knew it wasn't the ultimate solution and would no doubt fail. But it was a start. There was a chance.

Kate got up. Her husband wasn't looking at her anymore. It had gone back to silence. She knew he wouldn't say anything more now. He had said all that he had to.

"Fine. I agree. I'm going to bed. It's been a long day."

She got up and left the room. She felt defeated. Although there was something else, deeper down. Hope.

Oliver looked up and smiled. She had left her wand on the table. Maybe this could work after all?

* * *

Happy Holidays! I may try and get something else out this week but I'm working a whole bunch so we'll see.

Oh there was supposed to be something in between the two Truth chapters, but I some how misplaced it. Not sure it's completely necessary (a meeting with Kate, her mum and dad and Oliver) but if people want me to post it I will.


	4. The Trouble with Mothers

**Sorry it's taken me so long to get anything out. The truth is I'm incredibly lazy. But look! It's that guy again. You know...the other one!**

The Trouble with Mothers.

"It's about bloody time you showed up!" Ceridwen Flint said, throwing a spoon at her son. "I can't believe you let me find out through the morning paper of all things Marcus."

"Find out what?" Marcus mumbled, rubbing his forehead.

"That I'm going to be a granny!"

"Oh, that."

"That? That! You're going to be a father, you could at least look pleased. Or was this an accident? Honestly, how hard is it to remember a contraception charm? You need to learn to be more responsible. And sharpish. You're a man now Marcus, and you're going to be a father. You can't keep messing around, you're not a kid anymore."

"Oh mum will you just shut up for five minutes. I didn't come here for an argument." Marcus said as he opened the fridge to stare moodily at its contents.

"You won't find any answers in there young man. Come on, sit down and tell me what you've done."

"Why do you assume I've done something?"

"Because you're a man. I know you can't help it, but well it's always the man's fault. No matter what. I thought I taught you that much."

"That's bull-"

"Watch your mouth. Sit down. Now what is it? Did you try to blame her? Did you break her heart?"

She watched as Marcus sat down on the kitchen doorstep, his back to his mother. Ceridwen sat at the table and waited for her son to explain. She bit back the urge to say "Well?" after five minutes of silence.

"I didn't do anything like that. It's just she's, and I'm not. And she's not. And now she's locked herself away. In my bedroom mind. And…"

"It's always a shock at first darling. She's got a lot going on, everything about her is changing. She's confused, and probably scared. So come on, what is she and what are you and her both not?"

"It's complicated." he said shortly.

"Well believe it or not I do actually have some experience in this area. Let me guess. You've argued, and now she's upset and not talking to you?"

"Yeah, she's definitely upset."

Ceridwen got up and walked to the French doors that opened out onto her garden. She sat down next to her son and slung a protective arm around his broad shoulders.

"I know its overwhelming for you kiddo, but you've got to think of what its like for her. Just tell her you're sorry and be there for her."

"It's not as easy as that." Marcus said. He kept his eyes on the ground in front of him. He was thinking of all the times he and his mother had sat like this over the years.

"Then make it that easy. Marcus it's not just you anymore. You've got to think about someone else for a change. It can't have been easy for her to see it in print. The first few months don't feel all that real. So just try. It's all you can do."

"Yeah ok."

"Now tell me all about the mother of my grandchild. How come I haven't met her?"

"She's great. I mean I've never met a girl like her." Marcus started.

"You mean she has a brain? She's not another of your bimbo's? No more airheads! And there I was thinking you hadn't grown up." his mother interrupted.

"Hey do you want me to tell you or are you going to be all sarcy?"

Ceridwen clamped her mouth shut, and mimed locking it and throwing away the key.

"Thank you. Yes she's got a brain. And she's funny. A bit nuts too."

"How did you meet?" Ceridwen asked quietly.

"We were at school. She was in my year but I don't really remember her. I probably ignored her or something. But she worked at the Quidditch shop I used to go to. I met her there."

"Smart and works. I think I love her already. So do I get to meet her?"

"Maybe. If you promise to behave yourself."

Ceridwen gasped and pretended to clutch at her heart.

"You imply that I'm not always this charming creature that sits next to you? Marcus I'm always on my best behaviour!"

"You told my last girlfriend that my broom had more brain cells than she did."

"My mother taught me, as I have strived to teach you, to never lie."

"I believe Nan also taught you that if you don't have anything nice to say you should keep your mouth shut."

"I think even Nan would forgive me that. Hell I reckon she would have beaten me to it if she'd been there."

"Probably." he agreed.

The two fell silent, watching the sun as it sank below the trees that lined the garden.

"Well young man." she said at last. "It's time for you to go home and look after that girl of yours. Or you'll have me to answer to."

"Yes mum." Marcus groaned.

"And next time you get her pregnant don't leave it to the papers to tell me. And don't wait a week after I've found out to come and see me! You may be my grown up son but you're still my baby." she said pulling him into a hug.

"Yes mum." he mumbled dutifully.

"Go on, shove off. Take care on that broom."

"Oh mum?"

"Yeah?"

"I got fired from the Falcons." Marcus said as he kicked off and zoomed off into the sky."

"You what!"

* * *

**Short I know...but look there's more!**


	5. The Complete and Utter Lack of Any

**It's those two other ones. And they're getting up to something. Apologies for my poor attempts at smut. I try, I fail. Nevermind eh?**

The Complete and Utter Lack of Any Trouble Whatsoever.

Marcus lay on his bed. The curtains hadn't been drawn properly the night before and the morning light was almost blinding. But he couldn't take his eyes off Ayla. She was still sleeping. The dawning sun lit her from behind, made her seem radiant. Her normally dark hair was shot with streaks of pure gold. Everything abut her right then seemed golden and good. Marcus smiled to himself.

Ayla shifted in her sleep, rolled over onto her back and stretched. The light hit her eyelids and she figured it was probably about time she got up. She didn't really sleep late anymore, her day started early and ended late now. She stretched again and sighed, not opening her eyes just yet. She listened to the sounds of the almost silent house. The breeze outside moved the curtains, in and out. Slow, almost like breath but slightly irregular. She could hear Marcus breathing and knew he wasn't asleep. She cracked one eye open and smiled in his direction.

"Morning." she whispered.

He smiled at her and repeated her greeting.

"Sleep well?" he asked, chuckling. He already knew the answer.

"Yeah. You?" she replied.

"Like a log."

She grinned, enjoying their early morning ritual. It had been the same ever since Jake had first started sleeping the night right through. Marcus smiled back and kissed her.

"Hey now Mr. No funny business, you wore me out last night. Besides, one of us has to pick Jakey up from your mum's."

"Spoilsport." he muttered, but the smile remained fixed on his face.

"I know." Ayla said, untangling herself from the sheets and getting out of bed. "Maybe you should trade me in for a better model." she said as she winked at the man still gazing at her.

"Never." he said, getting up himself and wrapping his arms around her. "Wouldn't dream of it." His lips once more descending on hers.

They stayed like that. Kissing, touching, holding on to one another. It seemed like hours had passed when they finally broke apart, both breathless and still smiling. He kissed her cheek, leaving a tingling trail as he moved on to her neck.

"I know what you're doing." Ayla said.

"Me? I'm not doing anything." Marcus replied, kissing her lips once more before repeating his path on the other cheek.

"You're trying to stop me getting dressed. It won't work."

"Worked every other time." he teased pulling her slowly back to bed.

She tried to resist, stood firm and held her ground. He was sitting now, his hands holding hers, trying to pull her down with him.

"Your mother-" she started.

"Will be delighted to have her favourite grandson for another hour. Or so. Besides you shouldn't mention her when I'm trying to put the moves on you. Puts me off."

Ayla laughed as he finally managed to pull her down next to him. They sat face to face, he smoothed her bed messed hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. He kissed her again, dissolving her will to fight, leaving her to think of nothing more than themselves.

Before she knew it Ayla was lying down, Marcus hovered above her. His hair was shorter than normal, recently cropped, she was still getting used to it. She ran her hands through the mess of black and pulled him closer. She loved moments like this. The two of them alone together.

Her breath hitched as they began. Not from pain or the surprise of the moment, but from him. With him she felt breathless, almost as if she were drowning. She'd cling to his shoulders, always surprised at his gentleness despite his large frame.

"I love you." he whispered, his eyes locked on hers. She nodded, unable to speak. He knew she felt the same, she didn't need to say a word.

Their breathing quickened, and matched. If Ayla didn't know any better she'd say that in moments like these even their hearts beat the same pace.

She gasped and whimpered, calling his name, pulling him closer to her. He obliged, half collapsing on her, holding his full weight so as not to hurt her. His eyes closed again as her breathing levelled out. He kissed her temple, rolling them over onto their sides, wrapping his arms around her. She laughed as he nuzzled against her neck, his breath tickling her.

"Told you it always works." he said, grinning again.

She laughed louder and swatted his shoulder.

"Men."

* * *

Again short but at least there was two, an improvement on none if you ask me.

Anyway Happy New Year to all my wonderful readers! Thanks for sticking with me guys. There's not many oneshots left, and I haven't got anymore planned so the (still only four chapters long) sequel is on it's way.

You'll have to continue being patient with me this year, my last year of full time education. Come the summer I'll be free! Wooo no more exams/essays/university!


	6. The Trouble with Proposals

**Hello my darlings! Sorry I haven't been around much. I've been writing essays instead of fanfics. Terrible business. Anyway enjoy!**

The Trouble with Proposals.

Marcus bounced the little boy on his knee. He smiled as his son gurgled. Jacob was the most precious thing in his life right now, as well as Ayla of course.

"So little man, I've got a question for you. You know I love your mum right? Well I was thinking we'd make things official. How does that sound to you? Think she'll go for it?"

Jacob blinked.

"Ok I'll take it as one blink means yes. Right, well that means you and me have to go on a little shopping trip. But best keep it between you and me. No blabbing to your mother ok? Deal."

He sat Jacob on his lap, holding him up with one hand Marcus used the other to shake on their deal. He put his son down in his cot and looked around for a pen and paper to write Ayla a note.

"Gone to Diagon Alley to get some potion supplies. Taken Jakey with me. Won't be long, but I've got all his stuff with me just in case. Love Marcus."

Ayla was napping upstairs, the night time check ups were tiring her out. Marcus was only too happy to take his son out during the day to give her some sleep time. He was very much the proud father. There was nothing that could compare to a walk round the park, watching the small, dark eyes dart around trying to follow the birds and people passing by. Who could have predicted how fulfilling fatherhood was?

They wouldn't go to the park today. On their daily walks father and son often passed an old fashioned looking jeweller's. The silver and gold displays had regularly caught Marcus's attention. In truth he had been planning his whole thing for a while now. He had picked out the ring weeks ago. The muggle equivalent of money had been withdrawn from his Gringotts account shortly after, and had nestled safely in with his Quidditch gear ever since. Marcus stood outside the shop, peering through the window to make sure his ring was still there. It was. He'd buy it today.

He lifted Jacob from the pram and turned the small boy so he could see the ring.

"That's the one kiddo. Think she'll like it? If that doesn't make her want to say yes I don't know what will. So what do you say, shall we get it?"

Once again he blinked.

"Good man."

Marcus strolled slowly home, Jacob had fallen asleep not long after leaving the shop. The weight of the muggle money in his pocket had been replaced by that of the lighter but no less obvious weight of a small, square box. The first half was done, all that was left was the final half and the result. He just had to figure out how to score some points now.

Ayla was on the doorstep of Marcus's house. Her home. She had moved in long ago. She was renting her old place to Kristina. It had been odd at first, moving in with Marcus. She had just about gotten used to sharing her house with someone else, now she was on the other side of the equation. True she has spent a lot of time here during her pregnancy, and the following months. But officially, well she had been here almost a year now. So why didn't it feel like home yet?

She stood up and dusted herself off. Marcus would be back before long. He knew she couldn't help but worry and would never stay out longer than an hour if he could help it. By her reckoning his time was nearly up. She looked up and down the street before she saw his distant shape heading towards her. Ayla let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. She trusted him completely but this was her first child - she was allowed to worry a little.

"How are my boys?" she called as they came closer.

Marcus put his finger to his lips and she couldn't help but laugh. Her son looked the perfect angel when he was asleep, both of them hated to wake him.

"Where did you end up?" she asked softly.

"The park, I reckon he likes the ducks."

"I wouldn't mind being a duck."

"You what? Why?"

"You get to swim around all day. I bet it's nice and cool during the summer. And nice people throw you bread. Perfect."

"I don't think you'd make a good duck."

"Why not?"

"You're more of a swan."

"Still the charmer."

"I try."

"Mum stuck her head in earlier." Ayla said as they carried the pram inside.

"Yeah? What she say?"

"Asked if she could have Jake one night."

"Really? What did you say?"

"I said yes. I know it sounds selfish but I'd love a full night's sleep. Even when you get up to check on him I can't sleep unless I know he's alright myself."

"It's not selfish. Everyone knows how much you like your sleep. And how much you love your son. Plus it gives us the chance to be alone together." he said wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer.

"Don't get any ideas you." she said patting his cheek gently. "When I say sleep I mean sleep. No funny business."

"Hadn't crossed my mind."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. So when's your mum having the little chappy?"

"Now. Unless of course I'm interrupting something. I could always come back."

"Hi mum."

"Bev! Good to see you."

"Oh carry on, don't mind me. I'll just grab the essentials and be off. Pretend I'm not here."

"What is it with you and your mother? You both just pop up out of nowhere, I can never relax." Marcus whispered.

"Just a knack we have Marcus dear. Now Ayla I'm going to take Jake over your aunt Sylvia's tomorrow so I'll bring him back in the afternoon. You two just relax and enjoy the time alone."

Bev stepped into the fireplace, baby in hand and whooshed away.

"Why doesn't she pop when she apparates?"

"A lady never pops Marcus."

"Well I don't know too many ladies then."

"Marcus!" Ayla gasped dramatically. "You mean to say you've been running round with floozies all this time?"

"Yup." he said grinning widely.

"Well we'll have to do something about that."

"Oh I plan to." he said to himself.

"Sorry. Did you say something then?"

"Oh nothing. Look why don't you go have a nice long bath and chill out. I'll fix us something to eat and then you can curl up on the couch with that raggedy arse blue blanket of yours."

"Don't call my blanket raggedy!"

"It is! Now go get in the bath."

Ayla ran upstairs. She was excited to have the night to herself. Jake was nearly sleeping straight through no, he was really no trouble at all. She knew that by morning she'd be missing her little boy like crazy, but for now it was nice to know she was getting a break.

She ran the hot tap and dug out a bottle of bubble bath from Marcus's messy cupboard. She preferred using his things, and it had been a while since she'd gone out to get any of her own. The large blue tub slowly filled and the bubbles rose higher. While it was finishing off she went out to the airing cupboard on the landing and pulled out the biggest towels she could find. She got back to the bath just in time, the water was more than deep enough and the thick foam was threatening to flow over the edge. She shut off the water and slipped out of her pyjamas. First one foot, then the other. The water was hot, sending steam throughout the room. The mirror opposite was misted over. Perfect.

Ayla lowered herself slowly into the bath, letting the water wash over her. A long, hot bath was a luxury these days. She planned on enjoying it as long as possible. The bubbles were softly crackling. The slight crunching, popping sound was like music to her ears. She wiggled her toes, letting the water splash against the top of the almost full tub.

The silence in the bathroom caused her eyes to close and a dreamy smile to drift over her face. Now this was bliss. Nothing in the world can compare to a hot bath. All thoughts left Ayla's head. She hadn't a care in the world. Well that wasn't completely true. She had two. The water cooling, and wrinkly fingers. She lifted her leg and counted to ten before she let in fall back into the water. It had cooled, though not too much.

She lay there a while longer. Just a little while longer, she thought. She raised her hand and looked at her fingers. They were considerably wrinkled. Sighing she sat up, time to get out. Ayla pulled the plug and waited for the water to empty around her. She hated this part, back to reality. She stood and reached for the towel on its hook. It wrapped around her twice and fell almost to her ankles. This bit almost made up for draining the water away, Marcus's towels were far nicer than hers. It was like being wrapped in a heated cloud. Ayla gave one last longing look at the bath before turning the light off and heading off to get dressed again. She could faintly hear Marcus clattering about in the kitchen, her stomach rumbled. Food.

Marcus heard the water draining away and knew it wouldn't be long before she'd be down. His arm caught a pan on the side and knocked it to the floor. Merlin he was nervous. But that was a good sign right? He picked the empty pan up and put it back on the counter.

He had long since set the table. White china, and bright silver cutlery sparkled at him. Not that they'd eat at the table, they never did. That never stopped him from setting it though. He could hear Ayla coming down the stairs and quickly flicked his wand at the plates, filling them with piping hot Chinese food.

"Is master chef all done?" Ayla asked from the doorway.

"Yup. You're just in time, I cooked you're favourite."

Ayla laughed softly. "And you are such a good cook. All the time you take to prepare and all the effort you put it."

"I know. I'm amazing."

"Can we eat on the couch?"

"Sure."

He knew she'd say that. A candle lit dinner would have been more romantic for a proposal, but she couldn't have known what he had planned.

They sat at opposite ends, facing each other and enjoying the food in silence. Marcus couldn't believe how lucky he had been. That she wanted to be around him, that she trusted him. That she looked at him with such love and trust in her eyes. He didn't think he deserved her.

"I don't." he said aloud.

"Don't what?"

"Deserve you."

"Are you going to get all mushy on me?"

"Probably."

"Oh."

"I love how you say that. Merlin I love everything you do. I can't believe how lucky I am, to be around you everyday."

"You're not so bad yourself."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I couldn't ask for anything more from someone. You're so good to me. And Jake. I'm the lucky one."

"Tie for luckiest?"

"Yeah."

"So I've been thinking about us. And what I think should happen next." he said taking her plate and setting it down on the floor.

"And?"

"I think we should make things official. Get married."

"You're kidding!"

"I'm not."

"Marcus I bet you haven't even got a ring."

"I have."

"Oh pull the other one."

"Stop arguing with me and say you'll marry me." Marcus said, pulling the ring from his pocket.

"You are serious."

"Of course I am. I'm completely serious. About you, us, Jake. I want us to be a family. A proper family."

"Wow."

"Well? Come on I'm going out on a limb here, the least you could do is give me an answer."

"Ok."

"Ok? Oh don't feel like you have to or anything. If you're too busy!"

"Stop arguing and put that ring on my finger. I want to marry you. I want us to be a family too!" she shouted.

"Now that's more like it."

* * *

**Hope it wasn't too slushy. I've had a lot of daytime tv on in the background while I write. I worry it's affecting me subconciously. Well I'm sick of oneshots (and running out too funnily enough) so one more post here and the Sequel shall appear!**


	7. The Trouble with Work

**Dedicated to all my darling reader's who have ever worked in a shop, because you know it's no walk in the park. Oh and WARNING: there's like one instance of bad langauge. I tried to give up swearing as my new year's resolution I lasted an hour...**

The Trouble with Work.

"And as you can see there's a space for an office, and maybe even a storage space at the back. So what do you think?"

"Uh…." Ayla said hesitating.

"It's perfect. We'll take it!" Marcus replied, his enthusiasm overflowing.

"Great, give me a couple of sec's to find the paperwork and we can make this all official." the estate agent said, grinning a little too widely. Ayla had been unnerved by her straight away, she'd never know anyone so happy or less inclined to blink.

"Exactly what is this perfect for?" she asked. "We don't need a shop, do we?"

"Well, I've had an idea. I want to spend the next year saving money for the wedding. And I'm not playing professionally anymore so this seems like a good idea." he replied.

"What? What seemed like a good idea? Buying an empty shop, with no stock to sell?"

"We have stock. Or we will have by the time this place is ready."

"What stock? Where? Is it invisible? Seriously Marcus just tell me the whole story will you? I'm trying to play catch up here and you're being all mystical, Jedi-mastery on me. It's bloody annoying."

"Selling baby clothes." he said simply.

"What baby clothes?"

"My clothes. The stuff I knit."

"You don't have enough. Not enough to male any kind of profit anyway. Have you really thought about this? You know nothing about business. How is this going to work?" Ayla said, getting ever so slightly frantic.

"Yes I've though about it, I've even done some research into the area and I may not know much about business or running a shop, but I know a witch who does." he said smiling sweetly.

"You're not dragging me into this." she said sharply.

"Oh come on! All the market research I've done shows this can't fail. And we can work together. I'll make the stuff out back and you can work behind the counter selling it."

"Marcus, you've never worked in a shop so I know that you don't understand that it is hard work. It may look easy, but it's not. It's not all sitting around all day and smiling. The customers are rude and annoying, and are never, ever right. And it's long hours. I don't want to go back to standing on my feet all day, everyday."

"So you'll have a chair."

"But the customers Marcus. They're the main problem."

"They're kind of essential though. If you want to make money. You can have an assistant! Kris! She can do all the customer stuff. Plus it's people buying baby clothes, how bad can they be?"

"Probably as bad as Quidditch Players." she muttered under her breath.

"Ok guys, here's all the paperwork. I'll need a deposit, but we can sort that out back at the agency. So if you'll sign on the line?"

"Can you give us a second Candy?" Marcus asked.

"Sure!"

Marcus pulled Ayla a few steps away and looked her in the eyes.

"Think about it baby. It could be ours. How cool would that be?"

Ayla looked back into his pleading features and sighed. She glanced around at the dirty, dusty surroundings. It was a small shop at the end of a bland looking muggle street. She signed again.

"You really want this don't you?" she asked.

"It'll be great. I'll make it great, I promise."

"Oh ok. Give us the paperwork Candy, we'll take it."

"Really?" Marcus asked, almost suppressing his glee but not quite, as a grin spread over his face.

"Yeah. But you'll have to convince Kris to do customer service. She's worked in a shop before. She knows what it's like."

"How could she resist me?"

"I often wonder that myself." Ayla said to herself as her fiancé bounded away to sign the baby work.

Within months the shop was flourishing. There had been occasional hiccoughs along the way, but it seemed like there was very little to dent Marcus's overwhelming enthusiasm for his little empire. Unbeknown to Ayla, he had had the idea for sometimes and had half of his stock stored away in his attic.

The two slipped into a routine. Each morning they'd leave for work, Ayla would man the front of the shop, with Kris's help. Marcus would spend his time out the back. There he would check the stock, replacing the best sellers was a daily activity, most of his time was spent knitting. At the end of the day they would travel home together, eventually one of Jacob's granny's would drop him home, and the small family would settle in to a cosy night together, before repeating the same the next day.

"I got a call today." Marcus said one evening.

"Yeah? Big order?" Ayla asked, handing him a cup of tea as she sat next to him on the sofa.

"Uh…no."

"So who was it?"

"It was the uh, coach for a team in Bulgaria."

"What did he want? Are we moving into Quidditch uniforms now?"

"He wanted to sign me."

"Oh. What did you say?"

"I didn't know what to say. I mean I was flattered."

"But?"

"But we're doing the shop now. I talked you into it."

"You should have said yes." Ayla said simply.

"What?"

"Marcus you love to fly. You know that better than I do. And you miss it. I know you do, I've caught you gazing out the window on clear days so often it's hard not to notice."

"Yeah but…"

"But nothing. You love Quidditch. It's in you. And you love it. It's that simple. You have an opportunity to do what you love again. You should do it."

"But-"

"Stop saying but! Marcus no offence but we don't need you in the shop anymore. If anything you're just in the way. If you don't take the job I'll fire you."

"You can't fire me, it's my shop!"

"So quit. Go do what you love."

"I love working with you."

"It's not like you work with me. The only time we see each other is on the way in, the way home and lunch. You won't miss me. If anything we'll probably see more of each other this way. Call the guy back."

"We don't have a phone."

"So floo him! For fuck's sake Marcus you're making this too difficult."

"I don't want to let you down."

"So floo the coach and make me proud."

"Really?"

"Yes really. Do you think I'd have spent the last Merlin knows how long convincing you if I didn't mean it?"

"Ok." Marcus said, putting his now cold tea on the floor. "I'll go floo him."

"What team?" Ayla called as he the room.

"Krum's!" he shouted back, a huge smile echoed in his voice.

Ayla sighed as she lay back on the sofa, men were such hard work.

* * *

p.s any mistakes blame my dog, he kept barking while I was typing/reading through. More coming soon. I was going to post all the oneshots I have left but I couldn't find two, and then I did, but my backs hurting and I'm sick of typing. In other news: two essays done, three to go! Wooo.

I know I said there was only one oneshot left, I lied. I keep finding them dotted around my house. Someone come sort out a filing system for me? Please?


	8. The Trouble with Weddings

The Trouble with Weddings. 

Ayla slowly sipped the champagne and smiled at the photographer as Marcus kissed her cheek.

"Can you believe we just got married?" he asked, beaming at the camera also.

"Nope." she replied. "It's like a nightmare or something." Ayla said teasingly.

"Gee thanks."

"That's great guys." the photographer said. "I've got some really great shots. You two look great together. I hope you'll both be really happy together."

"Thank you." the couple replied in unison.

Marcus hooked his arm around Ayla's waist and steered her in the direction of the marquee where their friends and family were waiting.

"So," he started. "Think we'll manage that 'Til death do us part thing?"

"Nah, I know your type. You'll be off with the first little chippy you see. You Quidditch players are all the same."

"Well I'll try, but I don't think there's a lot of chippy's at the reception." he said, smirking.

The sun shone brightly on the pristine white tent in front of them. The whole day had been like a dream to Ayla, she resisted the urge to call it all a fairytale. She could hardly believe her luck, the whole day had been perfect. After weeks of planning and worrying she was finally married.

"So, let me ask you one question." Ayla said stopping Marcus at the entrance to the tent. "You ready for this? For our families and the questions. Like why did we go for the muggle vows, with a hand fasting?"

"Oh come on love, they'll all just be happy for us. It's our big day."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." he said, pulling her into a hug. "They'll start on that stuff tomorrow."

"Oh what a relief." Ayla said, laughing. "Still I'm glad we did it our way. And that your mum officiated for us."

"Me too. But you know what I can't wait for?" he asked, winking.

"Sod that! I want cake first."

"We could always combine the two." he suggested, pulling her against his chest and kissing her neck.

"Yeah, later mister."

"Mrs. Flint you're such a spoilsport!"

"Wow that sounds weird! Do you think I should keep my name?"

"Nah Flint's good. Strong name." he replied flexing his muscles.

"Oh definitely strong," Ayla said nodding emphatically. "Come on Tarzan, our guests are waiting."

Ayla nodded at the doorman, who lifted the flap in place of a door. The couple entered, crossing one of Marcus's brooms, signifying the start of their new life together. Everyone stood and applauded, causing Ayla to blush and tighten her grip on Marcus's hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom. Mr and Mrs Flint!"

The couple made their way to the top table, both grinning uncontrollably. They were greeted there by Ayla's parents, Marcus's mother and Sarah and Kris. Ayla's two friends held Gerry and Jake, the bridesmaid and pageboy for the ceremony.

"Well," Marcus shouted, addressing the crowd. "Let's celebrate!"

He clapped his hands and food appeared on the tables lining the room. The guests moved from their small tables, dotted around the room, and headed for the buffet.

"So," Kris started, handing Jake over to Ayla. "Explain this whole thing to me, 'cos this whole day's just been crazy."

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked. "They got married dummy, what's there to explain?"

"Well the ribbon thing, and the stepping over the broom. Oh and the muggle vows."

"Well the ribbon thing was a hand fasting. I guess it's a way of joining us together. We decided we didn't want to exchange rings, so we did that instead." Marcus explained.

"Didn't you think it was romantic?" Ayla asked.

"Yeah, it was just odd with the muggle vows."

"Well we liked them. And they said all we wanted to say." Ayla continued.

"Don't get me wrong, the whole day was just amazing. But sometimes I really didn't know what was happening."

"Well you should have come to the rehearsal then" Sarah teased.

"Yeah where were you?" Ayla asked.

"Yeah, Krum was missing too." Marcus added. "What've you been up to?"

"Nothing!" Kris cried defensively. "I was just showing him around London."

"Kris, you don't know your way around London." Sarah said giggling.

"I love your dress Ayla."

"Oh she's changing the subject." Sarah said as she continued to tease her friend.

"So where did you say you got it from? 'Cos it really, really suits you Ayl'"

"Stop trying to worm you're way out of this conversation!"

"And it's a lovely colour, perfect fit." Kris rambled on.

Ayla looked down at her cream coloured dress. It was simple enough, she had no desire to look like her mother's old loo roll holder. As such she had opted for a less then traditional dress. It was cut just below the knee, with three quarter length sleeves, perfect for the nippy Autumn weather. Her sister in law Chelsea had been horrified in Ayla's lack of enthusiasm for a huge white gown and had insisted that if Ayla wasn't going to have the big dress, she'd at least look sexy on her big day. That was the reason for the plunging line at the back of her dress, which did nothing to prevent the chill, much to Ayla's annoyance. It had been something of a compromise, Chelsea had wanted a similar neckline in the front and a shorter hem.

"Thanks Kris." Ayla said uncertainly.

"And Marcus, who knew you could look so good in wizard's robes?"

"Ok I'm gonna go get some food. No way am I talking fashion with you lot. Come on mate." he said taking Jake from Ayla's arms. "Let's get out of here before it really kicks off."

"Hey wait for me! I hate fashion stuff too remember?" Ayla called to her husband.

He stopped and held out his hand, waiting for her to catch up. The three made their way to the buffet table, though they were stopped on several occasions by well wishes from their guests. By the time they had loaded up their plates an hour had gone by since they had left Kris and Sarah.

"Hurry up you two." Ayla's mum whispered, pulling the two towards her by their elbows. "People are waiting for your speeches."

"We've only just got food mum. Give us five."

"Ok. Five minutes. Then speeches."

"Funny," Ayla said as her mother walked away. "I thought we got to do things our way today."

"You've really forgotten what your mother's like since you've been living with me, haven't you?" Marcus said, laughing.

"Come on you, before she comes back to nag us to the top table. And you better be nice."

"I'm always nice. You know that better than anyone."

They made their way to the back of the room. Ayla sat herself down as Marcus handed Jake to her.

"Me first is it?" he asked, as she nodded and Marcus's best man, Viktor Krum, called for silence.

"Right," Marcus said, clearing his throat. "First of all I'd like to thank you all for coming, and making our day so special"

The room burst into rapturous applause.

"Ok, ok settle down. Right where do I begin? I've got to be the luckiest wizard in the world. Nearly two years ago this beautiful woman sitting next to me fell into my arms. And now she's my wife, and we have a beautiful baby boy to make our family complete. I don't think I could be happier if I tried. So I'll leave it at that. Thank you."

He sat down and kissed Ayla's cheek.

"Your turn." he whispered.

"Ok. I don't really know how I can follow that except to say that I'm glad every one of you is here today. And that at first I didn't fall for Marcus the way he thinks. But I have now. And I don't think I could be happier if _I_ tried."

"To the bride and groom!" a guest shouted.

The rest of the room echoed the sentiments and raised their glasses in tribute.

Ayla tried her best to remember so much of the day as she possibly could, but a lot of it seemed to rush past her in a blur. The rest of the speeches she spent holding Marcus's hand and sipping champagne. She couldn't quite believe that she was married. And to Marcus Flint of all people. He'd waited a year before he proposed, and they had decided to wait at least a year before they tied the knot. The past two years, like the day of her wedding, were patchy in her memory, but she knew that they had been the happiest of her life.

Today, like the birth of her son, was the start of a new phase in her life. A new phase with Marcus. And she couldn't be happier at the prospect. She smiled to herself.

It was late, most of the guests had left. Ayla, with Marcus beside her, floated up to her room at the hotel where their reception had been held.

"Hey," Marcus said softly. "You ok?"

"I'm…fantastic. I can't believe we did it."

"Me neither. So you don't regret marrying me then? Or these past two years?"

"Never."

"Good, because you know you're always going to be Mrs Flint. I meant it. Til death do us part. And even then I don't think I'll be able to let go. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Good, 'cos it'd be a bit late to tell me you only thought of me as a brother!"

"And not to mention a bit creepy, you know seeing as we just got married and all."

"So Mrs Flint, what do you want to do now?" Marcus asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh get out of this dress and into a hot bath."

"I agree with the first bit, but lets leave the bath part for later eh love?"

"What, when we're dirty you mean?" Ayla said laughing.

"Exactly!"


	9. The Trouble with Moving

**WARNING: Swearing ahead.**

The Trouble with Moving.

"Marcus?"

"Yeah baby?"

"Uh I have something to tell you. And I think you might want to sit down."

"Oh baby if it's about the shop can it wait? I just got in from training, I'm knackered. I need a nice, hot bath and one of your backrubs first."

"I'm pregnant."

"Fuck you didn't even give me a chance to sit down!"

"Are you upset?" Ayla asked, sniffing slightly.

"Well, no. No of course not. You just…shocked me. You could have led in to it a bit. We're having a baby?" he said grinning widely. He moved to pull her into a hug

"Uh…"

"What uh? It's mine right? Tell me this baby's mine Ayla." he said pulling back.

"They're both yours."

Marcus burst into a small fit of giggles.

"I'm gonna be a dad again!" he shouted punching the air. "Twice a father. You just made my day sweets."

"Thrice." Ayla corrected.

"Pardon?"

"It's what you say after twice. You know for three?"

"Not quite the time for an English lesson Ayla. Or is it Math? Whatever I don't get what you mean."

"Did you take a Bludger to the head today? It's quite simple. You're going to be a father three times over." she paused as Marcus stood in shocked silence. "You're still not getting it are you?"

"I think I need to hear the actual words first."

"We're having twins."

"Wow." Marcus said, sitting down on the table.

"That's two babies. Just to clarify." Ayla said, patting his shoulder.

"Two."

"Twins." she said, nodding.

"Twins."

To say that Marcus went into shock would be an understatement. He had trouble uttering any words that didn't involve 'two' or 'double' or 'twins' over the next couple of days. He even took to staying out late after practice. Ayla took to worrying. It didn't seem like a good sign.

"This place won't be big enough for us in a few months time." he said one night.

They were sitting on the sofa. Ayla was nearly four months pregnant, and still trying to hide her slowly growing belly. Marcus's reaction didn't fill her with hope.

"So you're talking to me now?"

"Hey come on it was shock. You know I love you. I just had a lot to think about. Like I said this place is going to be too small before long." he said pulling her into his lap and kissing her hair.

"It doesn't feel big enough for me on my own, let alone when you and Jake are here."

"We're going to have to move." he said gently rubbing her stomach.

"Yeah."

"I've been looking into it. The minute I found out about our double bundle it was in the back of my mind. Much as I love this place it was always my bachelor pad. I'm not a bachelor anymore and this is no place to raise a family."

"You're a dark horse. Here I thought you were planning on leaving me."

"I've looked at a few places, I'm not going to leave you. I'm gonna take you with me."

"Always full of surprises. Where?" she asked, turning to face him.

"Not far really. I was thinking somewhere near the coast."

"Go on."

"Down Sussex way, maybe Brighton."

"Sounds nice."

"But Brighton's really growing, everyone goes there on holiday. And I want to take the kids down the beach as a holiday, not as something to do after school. I want it to be special. A treat. Something they'll look back on when they're older."

"You really have been thinking."

Ayla smiled. She knew she shouldn't have been worried, or even surprised at her husband. Like she had said, he was a bit of a dark horse. Always thinking, planning,

Marcus got up and walked to the bookcase on the other side of the room. He picked up a copy of Quidditch Weekly and flicked through the pages. A white sheet of paper fell to the floor.

"Aha."

Marcus picked the sheet up and made his way back to Ayla. He handed her the sheet and sat back down.

"So?" he asked.

"Number five Half Moon Lane. Is this a joke?"

"Nope."

"Half Moon Lane. That's the most wizified address I ever heard of."

"Enough about the name, what about the actual house?"

"Five bedrooms," Ayla read. "Two bathrooms, one en-suite, kitchen slash diner, living room, utility room. Large spacious garden. Near Arundel Castle. Sounds perfect."

"So you like it?"

"It looks really pretty. Nice and tucked away. What's not to like? But I doubt we can afford it."

"What makes you say that?"

"Marcus there's no price on here. No price means expensive."

"Not necessarily."

"Meaning?"

"Well there's no price on here because it's already been paid for."

"Someone bought it already?" Ayla asked, her voice expressing her disappointment.

"Yeah, me you numb nut! Merlin didn't I just have to go for brains over beauty?"

Ayla started to smack him, as he laughed and pulled her into a hug.

"Damn dark horse! I should have known. Are you serious? This is our new house?"

"Our new home." he said, nodding. "You don't mind that I got it without you do you?"

"Well you could have said something! To put my mind at rest that you weren't going to disappear on me. But no, this is. It's great. I get a house without having to see estate agents!"

"See how much I love you? I brave estate agents all alone, for you."

"It's that damn romantic streak of yours again!" Ayla said laughing.

"I know. Try as I might to push it down and suffocate it, the damn thing always fights to the top again. You don't know how hard I try." Marcus said, holding his hand to his forehead dramatically.

"Oh shut! So when do we move?"

"Whenever we like. Tomorrow if you really wanted to. Or we could decorate it first, if you like. Stay here until it's perfect. It's completely up to you."

"Oh wow."

"I was thinking we could paint the kitchen green. It's yellow at the moment, but not a nice yellow that you'd like. It looks out on the garden, so we could have it like a garden green. And the living room's beige. Boring. I only have one demand you know. The bathroom, our bathroom, must be blue. I will not wipe my arse in a pink bathroom."

"You have such a way with words sweetie. So poetic. I don't know why you don't write books."

"Mine shall always be an undiscovered talent. I wouldn't have it any other way. The world is not ready for my greatness."

"Yeah, yeah. So when can I see out house?"

"How about now? Jake's at your mum's, its not bad looking at night."

"Ok let's go! Come on get your broom!" Ayla said jumping up and dragging Marcus to his feet.

The couple flew the short distance to Half Moon Lane in silence. Ayla's stomach was turning somersaults, partly from the excitement but mainly because of the altitude. Knowing this Marcus tried to land as gently as possible. After five minutes of bending over with her hands on her knees Ayla finally got her stomach under control.

"I still can't believe you and flying. You should be used to it by now."

"Think it's the twins more than anything. You'd be the same."

"Lucky I'm not pregnant then." he said chuckling.

"Shut up. Is this our house?"

"Nah ours is around the corner, I couldn't land on the road, too many muggles."

Marcus took Ayla's hand and pulled her towards him. With his arm wrapped around her they started round the corner, gravel crunching underfoot.

"This," Marcus said, setting his broom against the hedge. "Is our house."

"Wow."

"Am I good or what? Bet you thank your lucky stars that you married me."

"Everyday." Ayla said, sarcastically.

"So the outside's not bad right?"

"It's beautiful."

"Well keep that in mind when you look at the inside. It's in need of one or two cleaning spells, and a lick of paint."

Marcus pulled his wand from his pocket and opened the door.

"Oh, and the electric isn't working at the moment." he said, lighting his wand. "So you probably won't see much. But-"

"It's huge!"

"Yeah there is that."

"How many bedrooms did you say?"

"Five."

"I love it. I mean it needs a clean up. More than a clean up. But it's great, Marcus, fantastic. I can't believe it's ours."

"You're really happy with it? Not mad that I didn't ask you first?"

"Are you kidding? I hate house hunting!"

"Phew. Ok let's go back. It's all cold and damp in here, don't want you and the little ones getting ill."

"Can I ask one thing?"

"Anything?"

"Can we move in next week?"

"Uh, well it needs a lot of work…"

"The week after then?"

"Deal."

* * *

So that's pretty much the end of the oneshots. For two main reasons, I've run out and I can't be bothered to write anymore haha. More will probably turn up at some point, no doubt when I'm trying to write something else.

Half Moon Lane is an actual place so if by some weird twist of fate you're reading this you and you live at that address, I hold my hands up and say "I stole it, and I'm jealous you live at such a cool place".

The sequel "The Trouble with Father's" is coming. Eventually. But for now I'm busy, busy, busy with exams and essays and finishing my final year of university. So maybe May/June. Probably before then I can never stick to dates and things.

Thanks for reading! Hope you're all doing great, and if you poor souls also have exams/essays/deadlines then good luck!!


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